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Thursday, November 19, 2009

Here I sit in the dim light of my living room. The TV is a forgotten quiet glow in the background. I try to distract myself by looking around the room, but my thoughts are on only one thing. It dominates everything, because I know it's coming.

There is nobody else around to help me when it comes, and nobody else to ever care. The thoughts that run through my mind all return to what will happen when it gets here. I know it's coming, and there's just nothing I can do right now. But what will I do then?

How do I prepare for when it comes? What should I do? I know I have to be ready, so I won't leave this room. The more I think about it, the harder it gets. I begin to shake a little and I start to sweat. My mouth goes from dry to wet, and my vision blurs. The time seems to stretch on forever as if to tease me before the time when it comes.

I continue to sit there in the darkness not knowing what I'll do. Should I call somebody, or just face it alone? I know it's coming because I was fully warned. The hard part is not knowing exactly when it will get here. Why does it keep me waiting here like a worm dangling on a hook waiting to be eaten?

Just when I decide that maybe I should call, I hear a strange sound outside. My heart begins to pound loud in my chest, and my whole body tenses with anticipation of this inevitable event. Then I hear a sound on my front porch, almost a whisper. I wait not knowing if it's my imagination or maybe my worst fear.

Then finally as an eternity passes I hear a loud bang on the door! I jump to my feet as the door bangs for a second time! I know I need to be fast so I can be ready for it! Bang! A third time that pounding crashes into my front door! I move swiftly to intercept it, and bound across the room!

As I put my hand on the door and begin to use all of my strength, I ask in a meek voice, "Who... who is it?"

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Fast Food For The Mind

Short fictional stories that are intended to be a quick bit of enjoyment, not to be great art. They are meant to be read and then disposed of. These stories are fast food for the mind. Read them at your own risk. You might not feel well afterward, but you'll love the taste along the way.

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